


Politics of Dancing

by diamond_dusted



Category: Frozen (Disney Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-20
Updated: 2020-06-20
Packaged: 2021-03-04 00:53:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,610
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24824866
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/diamond_dusted/pseuds/diamond_dusted
Summary: Based on the prompt: "Elsamaren meet at a bar or club and immediately hit it off"
Relationships: Elsa/Honeymaren (Disney)
Comments: 5
Kudos: 32
Collections: Just Gals Being Pals - Elsamaren Summer Solstice 2020 Exchange





	Politics of Dancing

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Starkurt](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Starkurt/gifts).



> Based on the prompt: "Elsamaren meet at a bar or club and immediately hit it off"

Honeymaren walked along the harbor towards the main strip, the warm summer air mingling with the cool breeze that floated in from the harbor and made the palmtrees sway gently. Behind her, the Dalt Villa loomed: tiers of pristine white buildings cascading up the mountainside, carved through with well-worn cobblestone streets. Countless windows flickered with amber light as the city came alive under the night sky. Honeymaren pulled back the hood of the light sweatshirt she wore under her leather vest and inhaled deeply, closing her eyes and tilting her head back as she drank in the evening's richness.

She reached into her vest and pulled a crumpled piece of paper from her pocket--the tracklist she'd drawn up in the early hours yesterday--rechecking it and second guessing just what kind of compromises she wanted to make with her choices for tonight. In the back of her mind, she knew her own stubbornness and that she probably wouldn't change a thing. Honeymaren slid the list back into her pocket next to the thumbdrive with her collection and patted it, then kept walking.

Honeymaren came to Ibiza chasing a vision of the past she'd only known secondhand, desperately trying to pull those elusive threads of magic into the present with music. Blending the synthetic melodies and beats of old and new to uplift the soul into that elusive state of lightheartedness and freedom she'd been lucky enough to know once before. Trance, in the purest sense.

If she'd been after fame or money, she might have wound up at a legacy club like _Pacha_ , mixing tracks for the masses who didn't seem to care what you played anymore as long as it was the flavor of the moment. Honeymaren wasn't interested in background noise, she wanted to speak to the people who stepped onto her dancefloor and hear what they had to say back to her. This had led her to _River_ , a small club off the beaten path that was little more than a single floor building and a terrace overlooking the harbor. Intimate in every sense of the word, and she'd picked it the second she'd seen the knowing look in the owner's eye when she explained the tradition she was trying to honor. The added perk was that she wouldn't be kicked to the curb for not packing the place wall to wall just to sell drinks.

It was the third month of her residency at _River_ , and while she'd settled into a comfortable routine, she hadn't hit her stride. Sometimes she'd be able to pick out a few familiar faces in the crowd, but the eclectic mix of patrons the club drew still seemed to change every night and she was starting to worry she wouldn't ever get through to them. She dreamed up set after set, added more tracks to her collection, searching for the perfect combination that would make four hours melt away effortlessly at 138 beats per minute. Each time she stepped up to the booth and set her hands on the decks, she pushed back the growing feeling of discontent and told herself that tonight was going to be the night she would find what she'd been missing.

Honeymaren was up second tonight and the vibe already felt right. She slotted her drive into the deck and taped her setlist to the wall of the booth, pulled her headphones on, and got to work. Starting off slow and gradual was the way to go, like the structure of the tracks themselves--she knew you had to build up the energy and right sense of anticipation. Honeymaren settled in comfortably to the rhythm and groove, nodding her head as she closed her eyes and searched for that elusive feeling as she began to blend the layers of songs together.

After a while, when she was letting a track run out that didn't need too much fine-tuning on the switch, she looked out over the crowd and saw a woman at the center of it all. Platinum hair, porcelain skin dotted with freckles, adorned in a halter dress that faded from white to blue and glittered like ice beneath the lights. She was dancing, same as everyone else there, but there was something subtle about the way she moved that snapped Honeymaren's world back into focus. She suddenly stood up straighter, nearly yanking her headphones off when she utterly failed to notice the cord was caught between her hand and the table. She recovered from the fumble, then peered out over the edge of the booth and watched.

Her arms swept through the air around her in flowing patterns, the glowing bracelets on her wrists leaving trails of light in their wake. In the fluidity of each motion--the roll of her hips, the arch of her back, the tension in the muscles of her shoulders--Honeymaren saw the focus and the control. Improvised, but synchronized. She was channeling the music.

A new idea seized hold of Honeymaren and she scrambled to cancel the next track she had queued, then swapped in another. She hit the timing just right and managed to pull off the transition, blending the new song's melody in and pulling it through layer by layer. With every switch she flipped and dial she set on the deck, she watched as the lithe figure at the center of the dancefloor nimbly responded to the changes in the flow, speaking back to her. As if in answer to the question Honeymaren had been burning to ask since the first moment she noticed, bright blue eyes met her gaze for the briefest moment that said: I can hear you.

Honeymaren bit her lip for a moment, then drew a shaky breath as she reached over and crumpled up the list she'd made. Her pulse sped up to match the beat as her chest swelled with hope and anticipation. She grabbed hold of that feeling and ran with it, cutting loose completely as she wove song after song together with ease and finesse, both to guide the dancer and to be guided by her. The harsh edges of everything blurred away--reality was stripped down to nothing more than the two of them and the music.

Hours later, she slid the fader bar down to bring the final song to a close. She felt empty and weightless for a moment until the deafening roar of cheers and applause from the crowd crashed over her. Honeymaren raked her fingers back through her hair and exhaled slowly, flashing a smile and a wave before stepping down from the booth. She cast a glance out over the room she'd brought to life, but the person she was looking for was gone. She couldn't have...

Honeymaren ducked out of the main room and headed straight for the door on the terrace, chest tight with the fear that she'd find nothing but the ocean and sound of waves out there waiting for her. But she came to a stop when her eyes fell upon the form of the person she felt like she'd come to know inside and out, who leaned against the railing and gazed out into the night. Words failed her as she drew closer, coming to stand beside the woman.

"Hi. Can... we talk?" Honeymaren asked hesitantly, suddenly aware of just how dry her throat was.

The woman chuckled lightly, the shadows receding from her face as she tilted her head into the moonlight and turned towards Honeymaren. She smiled softly. "Isn't that what we've been doing for the past few hours?"

Honeymaren's heart skipped a beat and the blood in her veins ran cold, that ethereal smile beaming back at her and telling her that no, she wasn't just imagining it after all. She nodded slowly.

"I haven't heard music like that in an eternity," the woman sighed, eyes drifting closed momentarily, "I'd almost forgotten what it felt like... being that alive. So thank you, for that."

Honeymaren tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear, then rested her forearms against the railing, raising an eyebrow at her accomplice. "Believe me, you're not the only one who needed a reminder. I should be thanking you in turn."

"I go wherever I am needed," the woman said dramatically, stretching her arms for emphasis, "When I hear the call, I simply answer."

"And tonight it brought you here," Honeymaren said with a smirk.

"Tonight it brought me to you, Honey." The answer came with a finger-poke to her chest and a playful look. Honeymaren opened her mouth to speak but was quickly outmaneuvered, "My name is Elsa. Just to get that out of the way."

"Elsa..." Honeymaren repeated slowly, as though trying it on for size. It was uncanny, in a familiar way, like she'd heard it somewhere long ago. She reached up and tentatively brushed her fingers against Elsa's cheek, trying not to let her surprise show when Elsa leaned into the touch, "Do we know each other?"

"Maybe in a different life we did," Elsa said dreamily as she stepped closer, sliding her arms around Honeymaren's neck and pressing their foreheads together, "Want to get reacquainted?"

"Isn't that what we've been doing for the past few hours?" Honeymaren pressed a gentle kiss to Elsa's cheek and broke into a grin.

Far away from the dancefloor, up a hill and in the comfort of Honeymaren's flat, they left the sounds of nightlife behind to continue their conversation. It evolved from music and dancing into an exchange of soft kisses, fingers trailed lazily along one another's skin, and the warmth they found in each other's arms.


End file.
